Otter Creek I don't want to run

Sorry. >< Sinus infection. FML.

Her approach was met with guarded eyes and posture—rightfully so. The bare of teeth stirred the quirk of her own lip, though she did not retaliate to the quiet warning. Instead, her gaze roved over him, an ear flickering deftly at the snap of his voice that seemed to reverberate from the swift moving water.

A tip of her muzzle would provide the only indication that she did not intend to launch herself toward him with bared fangs, but the hard glint of her eyes remained, the lash of her tail revealing the agitation that coiled in her muscles. “A wolf has been raiding our cache and taking food from the mouths of my children,” she returned, the smoky wisp of her voice eerily calm given the tension that clung within the air. “Do you know her?”

The scent of the thief was faint—her mischief within their parklands only brief as she took what she wanted and fled—twice now. The golden wolf before her did not hold the same scents to the nose, but that did not mean he did not run with her. She was trusting on integrity for this answer--something that many lacked now.